Chapter Text
Adrien was splayed on his back, his head on his pillow, the comforter over him, staring at he ceiling. Was it past midnight? Yes. Was he supposed to be sleeping? Yes. Was he sleeping? No.
Adrien sighed, turning on his side to face the window. He knew tossing and turning wouldn't help him sleep, but he hoped he could find something to focus his mind on. Anything.
On nights like those, he wished Plagg didn't find it so easy to fall asleep. Because if Plagg was awake, he could talk to someone, busy himself with a conversation. Whether it made sense or not, he didn't care.
Nighttime is not something Adrien Agreste liked. It was not because it got dark, he didn't mind the dark, and there was plenty of light from the street lamps outside either way. But it was because at night, when he was going to sleep, he was not busy. And when he's not busy, his mind wanders.
And whenever that happens, it's never good.
On that particular night, his mind wandered to Ladybug. Not that it was unusual, most nights his thoughts drifted there. But that night, his thoughts were not content.
Earlier that day, his father was in a more contempt mood than usual, being more stiff, dismissive, and bitter than usual. That came at Adrien's cost. Especially when it caused him to have back to back photoshoots, then fencing, then piano, and barely any time for himself.
His father had been snappy, which caused Adrien bitterness. But of course he couldn't show it. He had to be the perfect son, the image of perfection. It was so exhausting.
And on such exhausting days, the nights were never filled with content thoughts.
Adrien sighed, turning to stare at the ceiling again. Maybe his mind could stop thinking if he stared at the same blank area for a while. He was wrong.
Ladybug...
She was great, amazing, so totally creative, and so completely, utterly, out of his reach. No matter what he did, she was uninterested, and it hurt. He knew she didn't feel the same way, but he thought that maybe, just maybe, one day he would do something and her heart would pound in her chest like his did when he saw her.
Ladybug...
His heart ached. He knew she wouldn't ever feel the same way, she said there was some other guy, some mysterious guy who was lucky enough to win her heart. Some mysterious, stupid guy who didn't feel the same way.
Ladybug...
She would never love him, never hold him close and whisper in his ear words of adoration, never would she kiss his lips, and never, ever would she utter three words he longer to hear, "I love you."
Ladybug...
She thought he was playing games, messing with her heart, just trying to get a reaction out of her. But he wasn't, and he never would. He loved her sincerely, with everything he had, but he knew to respect her boundaries, no matter how much it hurt him.
Ladybug...
She would never know or understand what she did to him. How his heart raced at her sight, a simple touch, or just having her fighting beside him. She would never know how badly he needed her, how much he wanted to hold her tight, or how much he wanted to feel the soft touch and sweet taste of her lips.
Ladybug...
She would never know how much she hurt him each day. How much it ate away at him with the knowledge that there was someone else who captured her heart, despite his everyday gestures, despite the amount of times he told her he loved her. She would never know how she killed him ever so slowly.
Ladybug...
He knew she would be the death of him, but he didn't care. If anyone would be the cause of his death, he would want it to be her.